


The night before

by spockside



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/M, Kissing, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-01
Updated: 2012-06-01
Packaged: 2017-11-06 13:11:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/419293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spockside/pseuds/spockside
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peggy Carter didn't usually give the men of her unit much thought, but she couldn't keep from wondering how Steve Rogers was going to deal with change. She goes to see him the night before the procedure, after Dr. Erskine departs with the schnapps. Alternative scene speculation; spoilers for Captain America only.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The night before

Peggy Carter generally wasted no time in musing on the appearance or performance of the men in the SSR unit, unless she was giving orders. Or meting out discipline (Hodge, what an ass).

In this case, none of the above applied. Steve Rogers wasn't a simple soldier, barely a soldier at all, the main difference being that he used his head more than his muscles, his muscles having failed him in the past. She didn't pity him, nor did she cut him any slack. He interested her, as he was a man who had volunteered not just to fight a war, but to fight his own physical difficulties.

She knew he was asthmatic, that he'd been exposed to TB, that he was underweight even for a small man. If it didn't matter to him, then it didn't matter to her. His mind was like a high-performance engine mounted in a too-small vehicle. If Dr. Erskine's procedure worked, Steve would get to try his wings in a body worthy of his mind.

However, she was bothered that, nearly certainly, after the procedure people would judge him by his appearance and overlook the rest of his personality.

"May I come in?"

She paused in the doorway to the barracks, where its lone occupant sat with his head bent over a book. That head jerked up and around, and when he saw her he sprang to his feet.

"Agent - "

"At ease," she said. "It's late, Rogers, can't you sleep?"

"You're the second person to ask me that," he said with a half grin. "Dr. Erskine was just here. Were you looking for him?"

"No, I was looking for you. May I sit down?"

"Of course," said Steve. He put the book away and sat across from her.

"I wanted to ask you something," she began. "About what happens after the procedure tomorrow."

"Provided I survive it," he said evenly.

"Very well. You realize what you're in for - more poking and prodding, scrutiny, psychiatric evaluation."

"Yes," said Steve. He looked as though he were waiting for the "punch line".

"People will judge you for your appearance, strength, performance," she went on. "Are you prepared to be treated like a commodity rather than a person?"

To her surprise, he grinned.

"Permission to speak freely?" At her nod, he continued, "I'm looking forward to it. Not because I want the attention, mind you - but I want to show them that Dr. Erskine is a brilliant man, and how his work can help more than just me. That skinny little guys have a chance to do whatever they want in life."

"What do you want?" she asked curiously.

"I want to put in my share of work," he said passionately. "To help anyone who needs it - to show the bullies of the world they can't hide." Steve leaned forward, eager to make his point. "Listen, Agent Carter, I've spent my life being judged by my appearance. That I can handle. It's not being able to rise above it that's been so hard."

"Peggy," she said, apropos of nothing. "My name is Peggy."

He looked rather startled.

"And I know about being judged by one's appearance," she said. "Trust me. Having shapely legs and breasts isn't all it's cracked up to be. Not all the time."

Steve blushed and she realized she'd embarrassed him. Leaning forward, she laid her hand on his knee, impulsively.

"I'm sorry, that was a bit more than you wanted to know, wasn't it."

He shook his head.

"No, it wasn't - Peggy."

His hand covered hers and gave it a little squeeze. There was that half-smile again, as if to say that he understood her perfectly. Then he suddenly seemed to realize he was taking liberties with a superior officer, and he took his hand back and sat a little straighter.

"Sorry," he said in his turn.

"I'm not," said Peggy. Slowly she rose, moved to sit beside him on his bed, and he turned a bit to face her, looking confused. As well he might; Peggy wasn't thinking very clearly, herself.

She took his hand again and said, "Steve - "

She wasn't quite sure what she was about to say. Turns out it didn't matter.

Steve leaned in - their heads were about the same level - and just brushed her lips with his own, then pulled back a mere inch, apparently waiting. Not for long; Peggy closed her eyes and tipped her face up in surrender as he began to kiss her in earnest.

Peggy slid her free arm around his shoulders, her other hand still in his, and felt him wrap an arm around her waist. Damn but he was good at this, especially for a fellow who reportedly had had little success with women in the past.

They had no idea what they'd missed, she thought, but just then he pulled away, breathing hard but not in distress.

"Is this a test?" he murmured.

Peggy smiled and shook her head. "No."

Then they were kissing again, his hand was in her hair and hers was on his cheek, and she let her head fall back...

Abruptly he pulled away and let go of her, as if he'd been burned. Peggy stared at him.

"The windows," he stammered. "The shades are up, anyone can see in."

Peggy looked around. He was right; even though traffic between the barracks was never heavy, it was a possibility. She looked up at Steve, who had stood up and turned a little away from her, and caught his hand in hers.

"Steve," she said. "It's all right, nobody saw anything - unseemly. I'll go now."

He nodded, not looking at her, hands shoved in the pockets of his ill-fitting trousers. "I'll see you tomorrow, then," he said. "0800."

"Right." She nodded at his back and started walking toward the door, saying over her shoulder, "You might want to lower the blinds anyway."

"I will. Thanks."

Peggy heard him moving to do so and paused, her hand on the doorknob, heart beating fast. When she heard soft footsteps coming toward her she spun around, just as Steve reached for her and gathered her into his arms.

She was accustomed to men making suggestive remarks, clumsy passes (however respectful), having to dodge them when they tried to crowd her into a corner. Among soldiers, she was shorter in height and reach than most of the men, so she cultivated an air of standoffishness rather than succumb to feeling like a sapling surrounded by large oak trees.

Steve, though. He was slightly shorter than she in her regulation shoes, and lean - he'd put on a bit of weight through having three meals a day - but everything else about him was just right. His arms around her waist, his hips bumping lightly against hers...

Oh. That was why he wasn't looking at her a minute ago. She couldn't help it - she giggled.

"Dang it," he said, putting an arm's length between them. "I'm sorry, I'm not - I mean, it wasn't intentional. Didn't mean to be, um, so forward. I know you're a nice girl, I mean woman, not a - "

"Steve," she said before he could babble on. He stopped, his face redder than ever, and she laid her hands on his cheeks and smiled.

"It's all right."

He looked relieved.

"I should let you go," he said. "Big day tomorrow, and all. Maybe you'd - maybe after, we could go for a drink or something."

Peggy nodded. "Or something," she said and pulled him back into her embrace. This time when their bodies collided neither one recoiled; if anything Peggy couldn't resist adding a bit of pressure, responding to a rather exciting hardness stirring between them.

He broke the kiss again and leaned his forehead against hers and said, "Oh, God. You'd better go."

"I didn't mean to tease," Peggy said, but he shook his head.

"It's fine. Really. I'll be okay, and I don't want you to feel - obligated. Not that you would..."

She laughed. "You really don't know how to talk to a woman, do you?"

"No, but apparently there are parts of me that communicate just fine."

They grinned at each other. Then she kissed him, quickly, and slipped out the door.

Afterward, she had to go back to the base, Steve was whisked away by Senator Brandt, and when they met again she felt as though they were starting over, getting to know one another. And with one thing and another - the war, her snit over Private Lorraine, the hunt for HYDRA - their opportunities slipped away.

So when Captain Steven G. Rogers went down with Schmidt's plane, she mourned not only the warrior, but the eager young man who had kissed her, before he became Captain America.


End file.
